Cherry Blossom Baseball Read Online Free PDF Page B

Hiro,” she said. “Uncle Ted is way, way up that mountain.”
    Bleached driftwood littered the white sandy shores of the deep green lake that appeared before them. Not a ripple, not a boat, not a person in sight; it was totally untouched.
    â€œThat water is real cold,” Clarence said. “That’s why there’s no one swimming.”
    â€œToo cold for fishing?” Michiko asked.
    â€œNo lake is too cold for fishing,” Clarence said, nudging Michiko.
    Michiko gave a secret smile, thinking about the telephone conversation she had with her Uncle Ted when he called to say goodbye.
    â€œWhat about your fishing equipment?” she had asked him, careful not to alert anyone on their party line to what was hidden in the branches of the fallen willow tree beside the creek.
    â€œMy old fishing rods, the ones I never use?” he asked, just as cautious.
    â€œAnd that thing you keep them in,” she said, “the apple crate?” That was the code name they used for the little red boat her uncle had named The Apple .
    â€œOh, that old thing,” Ted said. She could hear the smile in his voice. “It’s no good to me now. It’s yours to give to whoever you want.”
    Clouds parted, and the sun lit the snow on the mountains. Michiko watched the cascading water along the roadside, wondering if the stream would follow them all the way to the station.
    â€œLook down,” Clarence told her when they saw the sign for Deep Creek.
    Michiko couldn’t see the bottom of the gorge.
    The poker-straight pines that rocketed to the sky gave way to bush. Michiko wondered if Ontario had lots of trees. How big were their mountains?
    After a few zigzags in the road, she spotted a faded sign for Frank’s General Store on the side of a barn. They twisted and turned farther and farther from the ghost town, into the valley.
    Willow trees appeared with jet-black cows munching grass beneath them. Soon Michiko could see low wooden houses with sheds. More cows dotted the foothills, and then the road turned from dust to gravel. They were in the town of Nelson.
    Michiko placed her grandfather’s old cardboard suitcase on the station platform. His letters lay inside Clarence’s blue box. She had rescued them from the bin of materials her father was burning at the back of the drugstore.
    The tough little bushes growing by the railway station were loaded with fat blueberries. Clarence ambled off and was soon back with a capful.
    Michiko popped one into her mouth. “About your going away gift …” she said.
    Clarence furrowed his brows. “I thought you said you were making something.”
    â€œI did,” Michiko replied. “But it didn’t work out, so I’m going to give you something that someone else made. It was just too big to carry.”
    Hiro sat on the edge of the wooden platform, watching a trail of ants crawl in and out of their sandy hill. “Look,” he said with a smile. Michiko crouched beside him and pointed to a large black ant carrying a seed. “That is what Clarence will look like when he has to carry his present home,” she said.
    â€œI don’t get it,” Clarence said. “How come you think I’m going to be an ant?”
    â€œI just hope you don’t mind second-hand presents,” Michiko said, getting up and dusting off the back of her dress.
    â€œYou are driving me crazy,” Clarence said.
    â€œWell,” Michiko whispered, looking around to make sure no one was listening. “You remember the day we spent fishing with Kiko and George?”
    Clarence nodded and opened his eyes wide. Who would forget the day George King almost drowned trying to spy on their fishing expedition?
    â€œMrs. King plans to inform the authorities about someone in the orchard owning a boat.”
    â€œI’m going to fix him,” Clarence vowed, holding up a clenched fist, “as soon as I get back to